seven deadly sins
by paradises
Summary: And, then she sees him with another girl, always prettier, — and she wanted everything to stay the same, but deep down Reyna knew that all along, things would be different once he had returned. -— reyna/jason, piper/jason aside.


**sum: **Glass shards fill the hotel's lobby, but all he can think of is the fact that he knows he's seen her before —somewhere, just not like this. And, by the time he remembers, it's far too late -— reyna/jason, piper/jason.

**seven deadly sins**

**.**

There's a tidy stack of papers near the sword.

There's also those moments of hesitation, where the three girls look frantically between each other and Jason's aware for the first time, but not the last, that they're hiding something from him. He casually mentions the question, "Where's Reyna?" as if he doesn't have the slightest care in the world, when inside he's crying and screaming. After all, he's the poster boy for nonchalance with those rough hands hastily shoved into slacks and chocolate hair messed up just the right way —poster boy at day, party boy at night.

And, suddenly, Jason feels as though everything had been tightened.

The tie around his neck feels out of place, as he hastily shoved it off, throwing it onto one of the younger students who looked up at him with a look of disgust, but still it felt as though something was choking him. He couldn't manage to speak a single word without falling down in the effort.

Everything was numb as soon as he started reading the papers; he didn't bother to read aloud, only numbly passing it to someone else when he had finished memorizing it, word for word. Hours later, they find him lying on the floor of the training grounds, just laying there, not saying a word. He expects them to question him, to force him to eat another cheesecake or slice of pie that the chefs had specially made for this joyous occasion, but they don't —instead, they lie down next to him, waiting in the silence for something new to happen, something different.

"We don't know where she is, and we don't know anything—" Hazel begins. There's this look on her face that there's still going to be hope, and Jason tries to remember those days. Flashes of words from the letter still are in the front of his mind, and he realizes that he's not exactly mad because she left. He's mad because it's _his _fault, it's his fault for bringing up the subject of leaving in the first place. Reyna, she would never have thought of something like this, not when everything was where she thought it should be, but he was the one who had to start out of the troubles. Without him, all of these people would be much safer.

Somebody coughs. "Correction, we know some things. We can contact the others, for help, maybe?" Haze — no, _Hazel _— pleads, and Jason connects with her.

"I don't care," he mumbles, rolling over on his side. "Reyna's gone, forever, and there's no way that we can find a way to stop her, to bring her back, so can you just please stop it!" Even mentioning her name, though it's only been hours, is too painful, just for the moment however.

Eyes cross, flashing dangerously as a knife is thrown above his head, a real one, not the plastic ones that the seventh graders are trained with. "You might be hurting, Jason, but we're hurting too. The only difference between _us _and _you _is the fact that we're not going to give up so, easily," another voice argues, throwing another knife from, swerving like a professional around the weapons. "So, what do you say? Are you in?"

They didn't even have to ask.

(All he thinks about is the fact that Reyna isn't the type to run away — after all, she's the daughter of Bellona; she wouldn't run from the war, the battlefield, that much he knows, having seen her on the battlefield many times, running from Camp: her only home. So, what could have prompted her to go?)

Sometimes, he goes back to those papers. There are traces of tachylite nail polish on the back, the scent of strawberries and cream toasted through the middle, smudged crimson fingerprints near the beginning, a seal. Over the months, Jason remembers small details.

After all, when she left, they were the only _real _thing that he had of her —it still wasn't enough, though. It wasn't enough to stop from going crazy, and to explode like a madman, flipping tables and killing people in his wake because that was the only way he could feel happiness anymore. For a time, when he wasn't going through insanity, Jason wondered if _Catherine,_ the worst alcoholic, self-obsessed mother, had gone through something like this, too.

And, suddenly, he feels just a little sympathy for his mother. It's the most real connection they've ever had.

/

The next time that there's a tidy stack of papers next to that sword, they're from Jason.

Reyna finds herself worried sick over the next period of years; sometimes, she loses count, but likes to believe that she remembers every single moment, every single second that he was gone; over a person who's already fallen in love with somebody else. Hazel comes running into their cabin one day, yelling that the Greeks had arrived, Jason along with them in the ship.

And, then she sees him with another girl, always prettier, — and she wanted everything to stay the same, but deep down Reyna knew that all along, things would be different once he had returned.

(Then, why does she feel like she's breaking?)

**fin.**

**a/n: **So, this is just this horrible short one-shot thing that I have had in mind ever since I read the series, but I never really got around to finishing and publishing it. I hope you like it, :) Please leave a review?

**x clara**


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